


I hear you whisper and the words melt

by TotemundTabu



Series: Throbb Weeks [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon ages, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: THROBB WEEK 2017 - Favorite Moment - After Robb's fight with Joffrey, Theon seems weirdly upset.





	I hear you whisper and the words melt

 

 

**11** **th** **September – 1** **st** **day – Favorite Moment - I hear you whisper and the words melt**

 

* * *

 

“ _Robb’s curses rang through the yard. (…) Theon Greyjoy seized Robb’s arm to keep him away from the prince. (…) Theon kept Robb locked in an iron grip until the princes and their party were safely away.”_

_\- GRRM, A Game of Thrones_

 

* * *

 

 

“That cunt!”, Robb shouted, shrugging his arm. 

Theon softened his grip, allowing him to jerk free, but he still stared at Robb, cautious and protective.

As he had mobility, Robb cursed louder, then a stabbing sting ran through his muscles and he brought his other hand to his arm, massaging it.

“Theon, seriously, one day you'll leave me bruised.”

Theon glanced at him, quickly, as to make sure Robb was fine.

There was no smile on his lips, no metallic-flavored laugh and no sharp smirk.

“Be more prudent next time. - he let out, trying to keep his voice composed – You may be a lord, but that's a prince, prick as he is.”

Robb let out a groaned whine, finding himself embarrassed by such an obvious truth and kept softening the flesh by which Theon had held him.

Soon he noticed that it was more about touching where Theon's hand had been rather than actual pain.

Maybe he wouldn't have minded a bruise from Theon, if he was into that, he said it sometimes, that he liked girls scratching his back or when they asked him to circle their throats with his hands and press.

Robb wondered if he had a bit of that in himself too.

He smiled, then teased, “You were worried about me.”

Theon rolled his eyes to the sky, then moved forwards, bow and arrow slouched over his arms, moving towards the stables, ready to pick out a horse, probably with the intention to wash away his thoughts by hunting some fat deer bathing in the late summer sun. Robb pulled him back, as Theon had grabbed him before.

“You were worried about me.”

Theon looked away, “Of course I was. - he forced himself to put up his smirk but it didn't seem to come as easily as per usual, more like the corners of his mouth had gotten heavy – You know you're my favorite.”

Robb also knew nobody was really kind to Theon except him, for how much he tried to deny it, convincing Theon that, under their absolutely not solely apparent cold behavior, his parents and siblings did hold a supposed tenderness for him; there was neither malice nor pity in those words though, because he still couldn't understand why his family didn't love Theon.

He followed him to the stables, where Theon had started saddling up a big, beautiful mare.

Robb stared at him, a bit enchanted, a bit shy. He looked away then, around, his glance lingering on the hay and the wood; Theon had told him that he had once fucked Kyra there, sharing in plenty detail how warm her cunt was and how soft her prosperous boobs, as they danced on her chest at every squirming twitch, while she welcomed him between her legs. Theon always said stuff like that, Theon was always generous in detail and information that Robb was not sure he wanted.

Where Theon had held him just felt hot then. It burnt.

His chest tensed a bit, felt hard, his heart seemed heavier, like its beating had turned into a struggle.

“Can I come with you to the woods? - he asked – You were going to hunt, weren't you?”

Theon swallowed a gulp, he looked like he wanted to say something, but opted otherwise, then he let out a low laugh.

“You keep sticking to me lately, what will the bastard think? He's sore jealous already.”

Robb raised an eyebrow, confused, “I'm doing it as much as usual.”

As he said that, Theon looked around, to make sure they were alone, he wore his most faithful brand of smug smirk and prepared to say something, but then his glance fell to the side and his Adam’s apple stiffened and jumped in his throat.

Robb's lips were wet, his cheeks still a bit red from how hard he had panted and yelled at Joffrey.

Theon remembered the fear, as he thought what might … and how Robb looked at him after. Softly, tenderly, with so much trust.

And that inch of lust, a fourteen's year olds lust, that he still didn't know how to fully express or understand.

Theon's eyelids fluttered, “Be more prudent next time.”

Robb blinked, slowly.

Theon saw his glance drop.

Now, Robb's raw, blue eyes were on his lips. He bit his own, inadvertently, slowly.

His tongue peeked through the rim of his mouth, way too slow.

Theon brushed Robb's cheek, his knuckles gently caressing the soft skin. Robb's complexion was the color of milk, his freckles small and of the tenderest pink.

He would have made such a beautiful maid.

Had he been, Theon would speak then and tell how he felt. And maybe, if he was right, if he had understood well, Robb would say so too.

They'd lay together in the moonlit woods, ask Lord Stark to allow them to be wed and he'd pick Robb up and ride with him to return to the Iron Islands, claiming his queen on the boat to Pyke.

But Robb was a boy.

And Theon was still fond of having his head attached to his neck.

He swallowed and moved away, but Robb's hand was on his arm. And he pulled him down, onto him.

Into the softest kiss.

He tasted as Theon had often imagined: sweet and dark, like honey and rosemary, like the sweat from practice and the northern fondness for mead. He tasted as Theon had often dreamed, in the loneliness of his chambers, in the nights he was coming to terms with an unnameable desire.

Robb put all the pressure on the tip of his toes, pushing his mouth harder against Theon's, unsure of how to kiss like an adult. Theon pressed his fingers on his cheek and jawline, making Robb's mouth fully blossom open, letting his tongue in. 

Robb's pupils ignited in need and then burned dark and low in desire.

All his muscles tensed and lit up and made him hungry, eager, greedy. Robb pushed Theon against the wooden walls and deepened the kiss as if he didn't need to breathe anymore, with the fiery passion of one dancing for rain in the desert.

Theon smirked into the kiss, against Robb's soft lips, indecisive about how to read his gestures.

 

 


End file.
